


Just for Tonight (and Maybe Tomorrow)

by raidelle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (It's Not Explicitly Mentioned But It's There), Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, First Dates, Graduate Student Keith, M/M, Potential Sugar Daddy-Baby Relationship, Rich Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raidelle/pseuds/raidelle
Summary: Shiro is a high-ranking executive at Garrison Aeronautics. Keith is a graduate student working towards a double masters degree. Their friends Matt and Pidge think they work too hard so, naturally, the solution is to set them up on a blind date.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 85
Collections: Sheithlentines 2021





	Just for Tonight (and Maybe Tomorrow)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheInsaneFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInsaneFox/gifts).



> This is my Sheithlentines 2021 gift to TheInsaneFox ([@FoxyLovesFandom](https://twitter.com/FoxyLovesFandom) on Twitter).
> 
> I'm sorry it's late for Valentine's Day but I do hope you enjoy this! ^^
> 
> I went with your prompt No. 3 = blind first date where they fully expect it to go poorly but it actually goes great. I also incorporated some bits of prompt No. 1, which is "sugar daddy Shiro helps struggling graduate student Keith," but the sugar daddy-baby relationship isn’t mentioned (the potential is there, though).

Shiro blinks down at the document in front of him, trying to make sense of the words that are starting to blur together. He flips back to the front page, skims the title, then goes back to page… five? He remembers highlighting something in yellow (orange?) so maybe that’s where he left off?

He runs a hand through his fringe in frustration. This is what he gets when he stays up late, trying to catch up on paperwork, as if there weren’t three meetings and even more paperwork waiting for him the next day.

In all fairness, Shiro doesn’t really _have_ to go to work after his long night. Truth be told, he doesn’t have to go to work _at all_. Garrison Aeronautics had given him a very generous compensation package after the fateful accident that gave him the scar on the bridge of his nose and took away his arm. He has more than enough money in his bank account to live comfortably without stepping into the corporate world ever again but Shiro… well. Shiro has a stubborn streak that can span the entire known universe and he simply refuses to live on what he considers a handout.

So he works. He spends hours in his office, the R&D floor, the labs in the basement (which has been unofficial Holt Territory for years now). The Garrison was reluctant at first, but what can they do? It will certainly be bad for their image if they refuse to let him keep his job.

The Garrison also can’t deny that Shiro produces results; a mere sixteen months after the accident and thirteen after he officially went back to the office, he had already sealed three contracts that pushed the company’s earnings well into the billions. They promoted him to deputy CTO the very next day.

Shiro doesn’t like to think that he’s a workaholic. He simply loves the challenge of his job and relishes every milestone he achieves. His job also keeps him busy, keeps his mind from dwelling on other things. He’s not a—

“Heya, Mr. Workaholic!”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Shirogane,” Veronica, his executive assistant, trails after the newcomer. “I told Mr. Holt that you didn’t want to be disturbed but he insisted you’d make an exception for him.”

“You sure about that?”

Matt clutches his heart in mock offense. “After all we’ve been through? Oh you’re breaking my heart, Shiro.”

“Do you need me to make him leave, sir?” Veronica asks and Matt lets out an exaggerated gasp.

“It’s fine, Veronica,” Shiro says. He smiles tiredly at her and nods; she nods back and leaves, closing the door behind her. Then he turns to his best friend and raises his eyebrows, “What is it this time, Matty?”

“What? I can’t just pay you a visit to ask how you’ve been? Why do you think I have ulterior motives?”

“Don’t you?”

Matt settles himself on the corner of Shiro’s desk. He wiggles a little in a show of getting properly seated, then crosses his arms, “What time is it?” he asks.

“What’s the time got to do with—”

“Answer the question, Shirogane.”

Shiro sighs and runs a hand through his fringe. “It’s…” he takes a quick look at his laptop’s clock. “Shit, it’s three-thirty.”

“Have you gotten up from your ridiculously ergonomic office chair since you plonked your butt on it this morning?”

Shiro hedges with, “Well, it _is_ ridiculously ergonomic.”

“Answer the question, Shirogane,” Matt says again, tutting at him.

“I…" Shiro pauses; somehow, he doesn't think his bathroom break an hour ago counts, "I haven’t.”

“And _that_ ,” Matt jabs his finger on Shiro's desk for emphasis, “is why I’m here.”

“So where are you dragging me off to now?” He’s already collecting his phone, wallet, and keys.

“Nowhere,” Matt shrugs. “Not if you really don’t have anywhere else to be right now. I do have a proposition for you, though.”

Shiro stops putting on his coat. “Oh?”

“I won’t tell your grandmother you’ve been neglecting yourself if—”

“No, you won’t,” Shiro says warningly. Baba already worries about him too much and Shiro doesn’t want her to fret about him even more.

“Yeah, I probably won’t,” Matt agrees easily. “I know I can be a dick sometimes but I’m not a complete dickwad.” Then his expression turns wicked as he continues, “I’ll think of something evil, though, and you best be prepared for it, Shirogane, if you don’t take a break this Friday night.”

“I take breaks!” Shiro protests.

“Nooooo,” Matt tells him. “You hole up in your penthouse, watch rom-coms, drink wine, and munch on popcorn. _That_ is definitely not a break. Not even half of one and not the kind you need.”

“And what kind of break do you think I need?”

“A date!” Matt practically chirps.

“A date?”

“A date!” Matt repeats.

“What makes you think I have time for a date? Let alone find one?”

“Okay, first of all, you _have_ time. You just don’t want to take it because you want to be working all the time because you’re afraid of being seen as someone lesser just because you’re differently abled.”

“Ouch,” Shiro mutters but doesn’t deny the truth in Matt’s words. It’s something he’s discussed often with his therapist. “That’s a lot of ‘becauses’ though,” he adds in a weak attempt at teasing.

“Second of all,” Matt soldiers on, as if he hadn’t heard Shiro, “you don’t have to worry about finding a date because I already found one for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, technically, Pidge found him but I can honestly say that he’s perfect for you.”

“How so?”

“You gotta go on that date to find out, yeah?” Matt winks at him. “Or else, ‘something evil.’”

Shiro knows he’s already cornered but he makes an attempt to get out of the situation anyway. “What if I dared you to do your worst?”

“I’ll pull in Pidge,” Matt says, as if that settles the matter.

It does. Shiro knows just how diabolical Pidge can get. “I can’t believe you’re blackmailing me just so I'd go on a date. A _blind_ date."

Matt looks offended. "I'm not blackmailing you, I'm just concerned about you. Seriously, Shiro. The bags under your eyes are unreal. You look dead-ass tired. You need a break. You _deserve_ a break."

Shiro blinks, oddly touched.

"Oh no, oh no, don't you get sentimental on me."

"I won't," Shiro tells his best friend and self-proclaimed brother from another mother. At least, he won't get sentimental _today_. "I do feel sorry for the guy, though. I haven't been out on a date since… forever."

"All the more reason to go, then, right?"

"Yeah, okay. You win. I'll ask Veronica to shuffle some meetings to free up my Friday night."

"Cool! Just text me the details so Pidge and I can coordinate for you two."

"No more setting me up on blind dates after this one, though. Deal?"

"Awww, but what if this guy's the one? You won't even give it a chance?"

Shiro just shakes his head and sighs. "This is me already giving it a chance, Matt.”  
  


* * *

  
  
“Hey, Keith.”

Keith looks up and finds his friend leaning against the doorframe. “Hey, Pidge.”

“What are you still doing here?” Here, being the office of Allura Alforsson, one of Keith’s professors in aeronautical and aerospace engineering and for whom he TAs for 15 hours a week.

Keith rubs his eyes, “Just reviewing and grading a couple more papers so I can have everything ready for the three PM class.”

“Can’t you do those in the morning then?”

“I got an extra shift early tomorrow at the garage so...”

“Ah. Right.” Pidge’s eyebrows pinch in concern; Keith doesn’t see the expression, though, focused as he is in the papers in front of him.

“Mind if I keep you company for a bit?”

Keith just hums so Pidge pulls up a chair and straddles it backwards, folding her arms on the backrest and propping their chin on top. She watches in silence as Keith works and it’s a testament to their relatively short but strong bond that Keith doesn’t feel judged or scrutinized by Pidge’s usually heavy, critical gaze.

After a while, she speaks up. She begins with a chipper “So,” and Keith is immediately suspicious. “I have an idea.”

“Yikes,” Keith says.

“I’ll have you know that my ideas are always good,” Pidge grumps at him.

“They’re also always dangerous or crazy. Actually both,” Keith tacks on at the end after a moment of thought.

“Still good,” Pidge argues. “Anyway, I have an idea.”

“Mm hmm.”

“What do you think about going out this Friday night?”

“You know I usually work a few extra hours for Miss Alforsson on Fridays,” he says as a non-answer.

“I’m sure she’d be more than willing to give you a night off.”

“I know,” Keith sighs. “But—”

“You need the money,” Pidge finishes for him, and Keith gives her a weak smile in response.

“But you also need to take a break, Keith,” she says, and the earnestness in he voice makes Keith stop and pay attention. “You just… I know how much your studies means to you but you work _so hard_ , Keith.”

“You know my scholarship doesn’t cover everything, Pidge. I _have_ to work hard so I can stay here. Altea U isn’t exactly cheap, you know? And besides, it’s only for two more years anyway.”

“You say that like two years isn’t a long time. You could run yourself ragged at the rate you’re going and _then_ where would your degrees get you?”

“Pidge.”

“Look. You don’t want my help,” Pidge says, bordering on angry now. “You don’t want to ask your mother for help, which I understand but I also don’t but that’s your issue to deal with. The least you could do is to _listen to me_ when I say _you need to take a break_ before you _die_.”

“Um. I won’t die, I promise.”

“Keith!”

“Sorry,” Keith laughs, just a little because Pidge is still glaring at him. “So, uh… what did you have in mind?”

“Well, Matt and I were talking about it and we thought that maybe you and a friend of ours could get together for a date.”

“Piiiiidge,” Keith whines. “You know I’m not cut out for things like that.”

“Then don’t think of it as a date-date!” Pidge reasons.

“Pidge, you know I don’t do well with strangers.”

“Just give it a try? I swear this person is almost as big a dweeb as you. You’ll get along, I can feel it.”

Keith’s about to complain again when Pidge says what Keith’s been dreading she’d say to make him give in: “Do this for me, Keith? Please?”

“I…”

“I know you don’t have, like, an ounce of self-preservation in your body and you’re free to just _perish_ if you want but unfortunately for you, you’re my friend and I refuse to just sit here and do nothing while you exhaust yourself to earn that god damned double masters degree.” She looks nearly ready to stand up and fling the chair in frustration, hands gripping the top rung of the chair’s backrest in a white-knuckled grip.

“Pidge, I…”

“Please, Keith. Just this once.”

Keith melts. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll do it for you. And for me, too, because… yeah, I’m kinda feeling a little wrung out to be honest.”

Pidge’s expression clears, lips curling into a cat-got-the-canary smile. Keith laughs and throws a paper clip at her. “Stop being so smug.”

The smile softens and Pidge says, “I’m just relieved. I’ve been worried about you. You’re my best friend, you know.”

“Oh. Um. Thank you,” Keith says because he doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been someone’s “best” anything. “So um, anyway. Can you share anything about this person you’ve set me up on a date with?”  
  


* * *

  
  
It’s Wednesday.

It’s only Wednesday and Shiro’s brain is already exhausted making up all sorts of scenarios that could possibly happen during his date—blind date, he corrects himself—on Friday.

He just couldn’t stop worrying. It really has been a while since he went out of his way to wine and dine someone and now he’s working himself up into a tizzy, wondering if he’s gone overboard or not yet done enough.

For about the tenth time since 8 AM this morning, Shiro ran through his to-do list in his head.

Reserve a private dining room at The Atlas Cafe — check.

Send his duplicate VVIP membership card to Pidge, to pass on to his date — check.

Send a gift card to The Good Suit so his date can get a new suit and have it altered for a custom fit if he wants — check. (He’d wanted to make an appointment with his favorite tailor, but he backed out on that because it might be a little over the top. Even then, Shiro’s still anxious.)

Was that too much? Shiro thinks it’s only fair, just in case the guy ends up disappointed and doesn’t want another date.

Should he bring a gift, then? Are flowers still a thing for first dates? Should he get chocolates instead? Maybe he should ask Matt to ask Pidge to ask their friend if he liked chocolates. Or pastries?

Shiro groans, burying his head in his hands. This is what he gets for agreeing to Matt’s schemes: more thoughts to crowd in his already over-crowded head.

He must admit, though, that he’s a little excited. There's a sense of giddiness bubbling underneath his apprehension, and the feeling makes him the good kind of restless.

It takes considerable effort to pull himself back together and focus. He has a meeting with the other executives within the hour and he has to be at the top of his game—the future of his team’s newest project hangs on the balance.

Right on cue, his desk phone rings and Veronica’s voice comes through the speaker, “Sir, Ryan Kinkade just dropped off the flash drive with the latest version of the presentation deck. He said he tweaked the video explainer of the jet schematics. Would you like to review it before your meeting?”

“Yes please, Veronica.”

She brings in the flash drive along with a few sheets of paper littered with what looks like random notes from Ryan and Matt. “Here you go, Mr. Shirogane.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sir. I’ll give you a call ten minutes before you need to head up to the main conference room so you have time to prepare.”

“That would be great.”

“Alright.”

“Oh, uh, Veronica?” Shiro cringes internally at how his voice sounds: unsure and nervous.

Veronica turns, a curious look in her eyes. “Anything else, Mr. Shirogane?”

Shiro clears his throat, girding himself for the inevitable teasing. “So, I just um… wanted to know if Acxa gave you flowers on your first date?”

The smile that blooms on her face is all at once wicked and fond; Shiro smiles at her helplessly in return.

“So? Did she?”  
  


⁂

“Hi, Miss Alforsson! May I borrow Keith for a sec?”

“Of course you may, Miss Holt,” Allura says, bright and cheerful as always. “Good timing, too, since we’re done making notes on the latest course materials.”

“Cool!” Pidge says, skipping towards the corner table where Keith is tapping away on his laptop. “Heya, Keithy-cat, so for your date on Friday you—”

Keith sputters, both at the nickname and the blatant announcement of his supposed plans on Friday night.

“Oooooh!” Allura coos, “A date! Why am I only hearing about this now? Do you need a day off, Keith?”

“No! I can still come to work at—”

“Oh nonsense!” Allura shushes him. “You work so hard, Keith. You need to just forget about your jobs and your studies every now and then. Take the day off. Use the time to just relax and prepare for your date.”

“But…”

“You heard Miss Alforsson!” Pidge says, finger-gunning the professor who laughs daintily as she continues to work. “Anyway, so you have an eight PM reservation at The Atlas Cafe.”

“Pidge, no! I can’t go there. I don’t think they’d even let me step on the curb! Can’t you tell the guy that we can go somewhere else? I’m fine with burgers or something.”

Keith knows he’s rambling, but he knows The Atlas Cafe (as does everybody else in Plaht City) and he sure as hell doesn’t belong there.

As if to underscore his point, Allura goes, “Oooooh, fancy. This date of yours wants to impress!”

“I’m not cut out to be _fancy_ , Pidge!” Keith complains.

“Will you relax? The guy you’re going with is pretty chill.” As she explains, Pidge hands over a card, a sleek black and platinum, with the letters “TS - VVIP” stamped in gold.

“This is ‘pretty chill’? Who have you set me up with?” Keith cries in panic as he stares at the card.

“I told you. He’s a friend of ours.”

“You’re friends with a VVIP in one of the finest restaurants in town?”

“I know that’s hard to believe because Matt and I can be heathens sometimes,” Pidge snorts, “but yes. Plus, I know for a fact that they do have burgers at The Atlas, they just don’t put it on the menu.”

“When did you ever eat at The Atlas?” Keith muses. “You’re even a bigger Scrooge than I am. Well, except for tech,” he amends.

Pidge snorts, “With Shi— I mean the guy you’re going on a date with, obviously. Oh and by the way, he also wants you to have this.”

It’s another card, this time in black cardstock with “The Good Suit” calligraphed in gold. “What even is this?”

“He said to use that if you want to get a suit and have it altered to fit, but he also said the dress code isn’t really that strict.”

“Pidge!” Keith is really panicking now.

“Just take it, okay? If I were you, I’d get a fucking awesome outfit. Just in case you have a bad date or something—which I highly doubt because I already told you that I really think you’d get along well with this guy—at least you got something out of it.”

“Are you kidding? This is your friend. I don’t want to… take advantage or anything.”

“You won’t be,” Pidge assures him.

“If you don’t want a suit, then get a really nice sports jacket instead,” Allura suggests. When Keith turns to look at her with a betrayed expression, she shrugs. “You said you didn’t want to take advantage. A jacket seems like a nice middle ground between not turning down the kind offer from this gentleman and getting something nice that you absolutely deserve.”

Keith stares at Allura, dumbfounded. “That’s… I hate how reasonable that sounds,” he says when he finally gets his wits back.

Pidge snorts. “He actually wanted to send a chauffeur to pick you up on Friday night, you know? Matt and I managed to convince him not to.”

“Gods, that’s… thank you,” Keith says. Then he rushes to add, “Not that I wouldn’t have appreciated it! It’s just… he’s already doing so much? He might not even want to see me again after this.”

“I highly doubt it,” Pidge says in a sage tone. “Anyways, I still have a class. I just wanted to drop off the cards for you. Send me a message if you have questions and I’ll send them over to Shi— to your date, okay? Bye!”

“Thanks, Pidge!”

The door has barely shut behind her when Allura rounds on Keith. “So,” she says, “I know you probably won’t get the suit. I’d argue against it because I just know you’d look _devastating_ —”

“Oh, uh… thank you, Miss Alforsson.”

“You’re welcome, Keith. Anyway, as I was saying, if you’re not getting a suit, get a sport jacket. A sleek black one to go with that red button-up shirt of yours that you wore when you presented your project proposal.”

Keith blinks at his professor; he wasn’t exactly expecting fashion advice. “Um. Okay.”

“I don’t expect to see you here on Friday, all right? I do expect some tea on Monday,” she winks.

Keith laughs at that. “You got it.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Shiro’s nervous. If he’s being honest with himself, he hasn’t been this nervous _ever_. Settling on the pilot’s seat of a craft—even if it’s just a simulator—gives him an odd sense of calm. Meeting with the top brass of Garrison Aeronautics? He doesn’t like corporate politics but he’s confident in his ability to maneuver through it. He didn’t even feel this tense when he was being fitted for his prosthetic; he remembers being grateful and relieved and excited, but definitely not nervous.

This date, though? This blind date? Shiro feels as if the rest of his life is going to change after it.

Maybe he shouldn’t have arrived an hour early, he muses now as he toys with the mouth of his wine glass. Maybe then he’d have less time to worry. Maybe then he’d stop second-guessing his decision to buy flowers, a bouquet of white and yellow desert dandelions that Romelle told him symbolized “wishes of happiness and a promise of total faithfulness.”

Shiro sighs and takes a sip of wine. He absolutely won’t say those things out loud, of course, but that also doesn’t erase the fact that it’s on the side of _a little too much_ for a first and probably only date.

Oh well, he shrugs internally and takes another sip of wine. He’s here, he’s brought flowers, and all there is to do is to wait for whoever this person is that Matt and Pidge have set him up with.

He’s about to take another sip of wine when the door to the dining room opens and a pleasant female voice says, “Here you are, Mr. Kogane. Enjoy your evening.”

Shiro hurries to stand, nearly toppling over his chair. Almost unconsciously, he runs a hand through his fringe in an attempt to… what? Make himself look a little more presentable?

“Uh, hi? I’m Keith Kogane. I assume you’re my um… date?”

He smiles, shy and a little crooked, and Shiro couldn’t help but stare. The guy—Keith, he reminds himself—is gorgeous. He’s shorter than Shiro but lean, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. His black hair is tied back in a little ponytail and his eyes are dark, a shade of indigo that’s bordering on blue-violet.

Shiro wants to lose himself in those eyes.

Keith clears his throat, blinking once at Shiro before looking away. Shiro wants to berate himself; he’s probably made Keith feel awkward. He sighs, pulling at the hem of his coat to steel his nerves, and then soldiers on, “Yes, that would be… that would be correct. My name’s Takashi Shirogane.”

“Oh. So that’s what the T.S. stands for.”

“T.S.?”

“On your card?” Keith shuffles his feet as he reaches into the pocket of his coat. “Here,” he holds the black-and-gold VVIP card between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a little wave before handing it back.

“Right. Right, of course.” Shiro takes the card and puts it in his own coat pocket. “These are for you, by the way.” He picks up the bouquet and offers it to Keith, who steps closer to receive it.

“They’re beautiful,” he says. “You didn’t have to get me anything, but thank you. For the coat, too.”

Shiro’s puzzled for a few moments, before remembering the gift card he’d sent. “Oh! Yes, of course. I’m glad you used it. You’re welcome. You look… you look good.”

“Thanks. You’re um… not so bad yourself, Takashi.”

“Thank you. And please, call me Shiro.”

A long moment passes, in which all they do is look at each other, before Shiro realizes they’ve been standing for a while. “Oh my god, where are my manners? Please have a seat.” He springs to action, guiding Keith to the table with a hand on the small of his back.

“Sorry, I’m… I’m a little out of practice,” he says as he pulls out Keith’s chair, “I haven’t been on a date for a long time.”

“It’s okay. I don’t go out on dates all that often, myself.”

“Really?” Shiro says once he’s settled down on his own seat.

“Really.”

“Hmm. I find that hard to believe.”

Shiro presses a button under the table and a server enters, quick and quiet, to hand over copies of the menu. “More wine, Mr. Shirogane?”

“I’m fine for now. How about you, Keith?”

“Oh. I don’t… I don’t know what’s good, actually, but some water will be nice.”

“Very well, sir.”

The server pours Keith an ice-cold glass from the carafe sitting on a sleek chrome serving cart before he sidles out of the room as silently as he entered; Keith waits for him to close the door before saying in a stage whisper, “So, uh… Pidge tells me there are burgers here?”

Shiro blinks in surprise; the statement—more of a question, really—isn’t something he’s expecting and it pulls a genuine laugh from him. “Yeah, they do. Do you want a burger? Their grilled bacon cheeseburger is the best, in my opinion.”

Keith smiles and Shiro thinks it’s unfair how the small curve of his lips makes Keith infinitely more attractive. “I’ll take your word for it,” he says.

“Okay then. Wine? They have a really good Northern Rhone Syrah that pairs really well with the meat.”

“I’ll also take your word for it,” Keith tells him. “Sorry. I’m not really used to places like this. Usually, my roommate and I just order some pizza or get some pre-packed meals from the corner eatery near our dorm.”

“No need to apologize,” Shiro says. He presses the button again to call their server, then confesses, “I actually thought of going to that new bistro on 60th and 5th but… this is more familiar. I guess I wanted to feel more confident because I wanted to impress you.”

“You wanted to impress _me_?” Keith laughs a little self-deprecatingly.

“Well, yes. Is that so strange?”

"It's just no one's ever… I mean except for Pidge and maybe Miss Alforsson. Otherwise, no one's really—"

Keith cuts himself off abruptly, as if only realizing what he's saying. He clears his throat and says, "Sorry. I was rambling." His head is ducked and there's a hint of a blush on his cheeks; Shiro feels his heart break a little.

It’s a good thing that their server appears then, effectively cutting off the subject.

"Now that you've mentioned Pidge," Shiro segues after placing their order. "How did you two meet? She tells me you’re a friend from Altea U but that’s all she was willing to say when she was setting things up."

Looking grateful for the change in topic, Keith launches into the story with fondness. "... so she says we should be friends because robotics has a lot of applications in aerospace engineering anyway so we'll also probably be working together in the future. At least, that was her reasoning."

"Aerospace, huh?"

"Uh huh," Keith nods, eyes bright with excitement. "I'm actually on a double track for aerospace and aeronautical engineering."

Shiro whistles. "Wow. That's impressive, Keith."

"Thanks. It can be a struggle sometimes and I guess Pidge noticed… here I am."

"I'm sure a double masters coursework can be challenging," Shiro agrees.

"Oh no, the coursework's fine. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not easy in the strictest sense of the word but… well, pursuing a double masters can be expensive."

"Ah," Shiro says, needing no further explanation. "Of course."

Keith's eyes widen in alarm. "Please forget I said that. It's probably not something people should talk about on dates."

"Well, then, what should we talk about?"

"Uh, what about… you? Why did your friend think you needed this date?"

"I work too hard," Shiro says easily.

"Why?"

"You're familiar with Garrison Aeronautics, I assume?" Keith nods and Shiro continues, "We were trying a new craft that was supposed to be used on an exploration mission on Kerberos. I was the test pilot. Something somewhere malfunctioned when I was trying to dock and…" Shiro waved his prosthetic and gestured at his scar.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Shiro tells him. "Garrison gave me a considerable settlement, big enough so I don't really need to work a day in my life ever again but…"

"That's just not you?"

"Yeah," Shiro says. "Don't get me wrong, I like the comfort and convenience that I can afford now. I just… I don't feel comfortable living off something I didn't work hard for, so here I am."

"I get that," Keith tells him solemnly. "Ever since Dad died, it's always just been me. I guess I kinda got used to fending for myself and it's… hard for me to accept help."

"What about your mother?"

"Ah, well. I grew up without her. We only met about a year ago after she came back from a highly classified assignment. I really don’t understand what she does for a living but she says she won’t be leaving again anytime soon.”

“That’s a good thing, right? You can get to know each other more.”

“Yeah. It’s taking a lot of work, though. We’re both… I don’t know. Maybe we’ve been apart for too long. I want to get to know her but I’m not really good with people. She’s my mother, though, so it should be easy? I don’t know why I’m like this.”

“Oh Keith.”

“Sorry!” Keith almost yelps. “Sorry, I don’t really… it’s just that I feel comfortable with you. Does that make any sense? You’re… so out of my league but I feel like I can talk to you about anything.”

Shiro laughs. “I’m not out of your league, Keith. If anything, you’re out of mine.”

“Please,” Keith says, rolling his eyes.

“It’s true!” Shiro insists. “Also, I love hearing you talk. So just go ahead and ramble all you want.”

Keith ducks his head again and blushes. It’s adorable and Shiro can’t get enough.

Their orders arrive and Keith’s enthusiasm about the burgers is contagious. They talk through their meal, about dreams of exploring space, about their childhoods, about their parents, about their jobs, and about how their friends all agree that they work too hard for their own good.

All too soon, they finish their food and polish off the bottle of wine. Conversation still flows easily between them and Shiro is reluctant to leave but he remembers something Keith mentioned earlier. “So, um. I hate to cut this short. It’s been a really wonderful evening but you said you have a shift tomorrow at that garage? Marmora Motors?”

Keith blinks, as if surprised Shiro remembered that detail. “Yeah. I do… there’s this Audi A5 waiting for me there. I don’t know how the owner already managed to do _something_ to it. It won’t run and it’s barely a month old!” he complains.

“You’ll be surprised at what rich people can do to their cars.”

“Hmm. Not you though. I think you’re one of those people who’re super conscious about their car and ‘what it says’ about your personality or something,” Keith teases.

“I do have a well-maintained six-year-old BMW,” Shiro agrees.

“I guess I won’t be seeing you anytime soon at Marmora, huh?”

“Maybe not. I’d love to see you again, though.” Shiro’s proud of how smooth he sounded.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d rather not go through all the hoops with Matt and Pidge, though, so…”

“Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in,” Keith laughs.

Shiro does and it’s not without a small smile that he pockets his phone after Keith hands it back with a smile of his own. “I really had a great time tonight, Shiro.”

“Me too, Keith.” He’s sorely tempted to offer to drive Keith home, just to spend more time with him, but he holds back, offering to book a rideshare for him instead.

Keith looks at him, those indigo-purple eyes searching, before he agrees with a soft, “Thank you.”

They wait in silence at the curb, the air between them warm and electric. It unfortunately takes the car only a few minutes to arrive and Shiro sighs inwardly at the end of the beautiful night.

“Keep in touch?” he says as he opens the door for Keith.

“You have my number,” Keith reminds him.

“Yeah.”

“So… um. Good night, Shiro.”

Shiro senses a few seconds of hesitation before Keith stands on his tiptoes to press a fleeting kiss to Shiro’s cheek.

It shocks him, that quick, soft kiss, and he follows the car with his gaze until it disappears from view. Then he touches that spot Keith’s lips have touched, his own lips curving into a smile.

He thinks about texting Matt, to thank him for springing this idea of a blind date for him, but he decides he’d rather keep it to himself for the meantime.

It’s a good feeling and he can’t wait to feel it again.

**Author's Note:**

> You can holler at me on Twitter! My username is @raidelle3573.


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